


Extra Mileage on the Odometer

by oliviathecf



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Car Dealership AU, Car Sex, Creepy Boss, Fuckbuddies, High Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Marijuana, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Roommates, Sinestro is a creepy boss, The Car Dealership AU That Nobody Wanted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-25 01:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20368732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviathecf/pseuds/oliviathecf
Summary: It wasn't the job that any of them really wanted, but it was the one they had.





	Extra Mileage on the Odometer

**Author's Note:**

> Finally cashing in on this, this is the car dealership AU that no one ever wanted. But here it is anyway, so y'all are going to take it. It's going to be a three parter, set over the course of one day, and the first chapter is only GuyHal, the rest of the pairings will come in later. Hal, Guy, and John are all roommates, Kyle is the unofficial fourth roommate who lives with his mom but is over a lot. Hal and Guy are salesmen, John is a finance manager, and Kyle works in the internet sales department (AKA the BDC). Sinestro is the super creepy general manager. 
> 
> Oh and Simon works in the service department and Jess works in parts. They don't really feature in this besides a mention, but I thought I'd mention this regardless.
> 
> I worked in the car industry for around two/three years. Hence my burning need to write this. I think it fits the Lanterns quite a bit.
> 
> By the way, the tape they listen to in the first chapter of this is a real playlist I've made for Kyle. [ You can listen to it on spotify right here! ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3lGWnyIYD7PJ8nF5I37acr?si=YLy0HSJ2TWStOP_vn2hh-A)
> 
> Without any further preamble, please enjoy this ridiculously dumb AU.

They took their lunch break together in one of the used cars, a used Civic tricked out with all the worst aftermarket parts, and drove to the KFC up the road. The kid who had agreed to buy the thing got fired months ago for it, and now it sat relatively unused in their used lot. Guy was the only person who drove it, and Hal wondered why until he parked in the back of the lot and pulled a joint out of his pocket.

“Am I gonna need to peer pressure you, Top Gun, or are we gonna light up like big boys?” Guy said, holding the joint up between his thumb and forefinger like an after school special.

Hal wouldn’t normally do this at work, saving it for his day off or after a particularly stressful day. But Sinestro had screamed at them all during the morning meeting for not working hard enough, despite the fact that they had all been working well past close for the whole month, the entire sales force running ragged.

Plus, anything to wipe that look off of Guy’s face, anything to release the tension in the stuffy cabin of that shitty Honda. Hal reached for the joint, snatching it out of Guy’s fingers before he could react to pull it back.

“I’m only taking a couple of hits.” Hal told himself, Guy being privy to it.  
“Yeah, yeah, alright, Jordan. Neither of us have shit on the books today though, I checked.”  
“Walk-ins?” Hal countered and Guy snorted.  
“No one’s gonna be walkin’ in on a day like this.”

Guy was probably right and Hal knew it, the weather was far too nice for anyone to come in to try to get a deal on some shitty pre-owned car. They were all probably enjoying a day at the beach instead of the half-working AC in some run down car dealership. Guy was usually right about pretty much everything, looking into Hal’s eye and doing some odd gesture with the lighter in his hand.

“I’d probably be makin’ more money if I charged you for this shit weed.”  
“Probably,” Hal thought, “please don’t charge me, I don’t get paid until next week.”

Guy snorted again at that, Hal thought it was an ugly sound that made Guy more interesting than just about anyone in that building. He chanced a look at the man sitting behind the wheel, just a quick glance. He was just about bursting out of his corporate polo, Guardian Company logo bulging on his chest. He had gotten the shirts before he had gotten into working out, and they charged for replacements, and Guy had ranted loudly about the idea of paying for a new shitty polo.

So he sat next to Hal, bursting out of his shirt and skin, leaning into Hal’s space to cup his face and light the joint hanging from his lips. 

Guy’s touch nearly made his jaw go slack and drop the joint on the polyester seat below him, and he clenched his jaw to keep it in place, nearly biting the joint in half. It took Guy a little bit to get it lit, the click of the lighter and his touch already sending Hal off before he even took the first hit. Still, the hit came, and he nearly choked on the thick smoke as it curled in his mouth and flowed down to his lungs.

God, he needed to get a girlfriend. Hop back on Tinder or call up Carol Ferris again. Instead, he had Guy Gardner, the number two salesman at Guardian Group Pre-Owned Cars.

Of course, Hal was number one. But that only got in the way some of the time, like if Guy peaked at his paycheck or if someone brought it up in one of their big arguments.

But, they weren’t fighting in that shitty car with the aftermarket speakers, as Hal took another smaller hit and passed the joint to Guy before opening the glove compartment. There were a few cassette tapes inside, and he looked over to Guy who shrugged, blowing smoke out past his lips.

“They were in here when that idiot bought the car. All pretty shitty, some bootleg mix tapes, but Rayner made me one that’s alright.”

Hal filtered through them, picking them up and placing them on the dash.

“Which is the good one?”  
“Never said good, but it’s alright, some 90s shit that I’ve never heard before Kyle gave it to me. I think it’s called something like “Major Leagues”, but don’t quote me on that.”

The tape was, indeed, called ‘Major Leagues, right next to a shitty drawing of a bong. There wasn’t a track list but Hal popped it in anyway, hitting play with his middle finger. He didn’t recognize the song that crackled between them on the awful stereo, but it was better than the silence between the two of them had become oppressive, they were both starting to get too big for their skin considering the month they had shared. The years they had spent together, co-workers, rivals, roommates, fuckbuddies.

Hal wanted in, wanted out, wanted everything and nothing. Most of all, he just wanted to find meaning for something, and maybe that was in the front seat of a shitty Honda Civic with Guy Gardner, while music they were both unfamiliar with played between them.

“Isn’t Kyle too young to know any of this shit?” Hal asked after the second song.  
“Yeah, but he’s a hipster. Bet his momma bought him all the stuff he needed to make a mixtape.”

He snorted at that, head lolling back against the seat. Hal tilted his head, looking over at Guy and watching him take another hit from the joint. The smoke curled between them, floating up to the unlit dome light over their heads. When Guy offered him the joint again, less pushy than before, Hal reached over and took it. He pulled another hit, and then another one, holding it in for a beat before exhaling.

“Christ. Bad day, Hal?”  
“Yeah, I mean, you were there too this morning.”  
“Yeah, but he’s always yelling at us and shit. Is there something else botherin’ you?”

He wanted to tell Guy the truth. Tell him that Sinestro had cornered him after the meeting, handsy as always, demanding that he come to dinner with him that weekend. That the only way that Hal could get away was to agree.

But he didn’t want the pity or for Guy to get either one of them fired. So he looked into those hazy blue eyes staring at him from across the center console, and lied.

“Just thinkin’ about how sad it must be to be number two in sales for the month for the thousandth time, Gardner.” Hal slurred out, grinning as the words moved independently from each other.

Guy looked pissed at first but then he took another drag from the joint, anger melting away into something closer to amusement.

“Blow me, Jordan.” Guy said, dismissively, waving his hand and sending ash everywhere.

Hal knew he shouldn’t dignify that with a response, looking at Guy through the haze of smoke. But he was soft and warm, leaning back against the seat and letting it take him places.

“You want me to?”

Guy snorted at that, tilting his head to look at Hal. 

“Seriously?”  
“Yeah. Seriously.”  
“I’m not gonna turn that down, Jordan, I’m still giving you time to go back on it before I yank ya down by your hair.”

He wondered what Guy meant by that, it wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before. Hell, they fucked around often enough. But he was looking at him like he was worried about him, something which sent a twinge of something he wasn’t sure how to name to the pit of his stomach. Something that was part anger, part fondness, a strange mixture that almost had him feeling sick.

His brain read it as pity, and he hated being pitied, hated it more than anything. On the faces of his friends outside of the industry when he had to make the same excuse about not being able to stay out too late on Friday nights because he had to work on Saturdays, when he had to miss big moments because a client walked in at the last second. And he hated it most of all on Guy’s face because Guy never treated him like that, they didn’t pity each other for the same shit they both faced.

Guy had to have seen Sinestro cornering him after the meeting, must’ve watched the journey his hands had gone on over his skin. Maybe he saw the crease Sinestro left in his dress shirt from when he pushed him hard against the whiteboard in the meeting room, the black marks on his shoulder blades when Hal took his jacket off because it was hot in the shitbox car they had piled into together.

He felt like he had something to prove, like he wasn’t someone that was sleeping with the boss to get ahead, like he was in control of the situation. Like his job wasn’t dependant on going to dinner with Sinestro and bending over for him when he asked, like he was some bitch to be bred.

Hal had worked for every shit thing he had, every lemon of a car he sold, the rent for the apartment they shared with John Stewart, the drinks he over-indulged in. It was all his, and Sinestro had nothing to do with it.

Maybe he needed to prove it to himself first, maybe reaching for Guy’s belt wasn’t the way to do it but it felt like the only way when his head was spinning from the pot and his own disappointment in himself. Maybe he was just a slut, maybe that was the only thing he was proving by bending over the center console and taking Guy’s half hard cock into his mouth.

It was a familiar enough pose, although not something he did at work often. But, still, the weight of Guy’s dick in his mouth was something he had felt before. He knew how to get him off, knew that he had to work quickly because their lunch time was quickly drawing to a close. They were already going to be showing back up high as kites, something that John could likely tell just by giving them both a passing glance, they might as well be on time. 

Guy groaned out a series of curses, sinking his fingers into Hal’s hair. It was something he usually liked, having his hair pulled, but the feeling of it only set him on edge. Like people would be able to look at his fucked up hair and tell what they had been up to in that shitty Honda Civic. With Guy, with _guys_, they’d know exactly what Hal was. They could smell it on him like the shitty weed they shared, stinking up the room around him.

He was achingly hard already, reaching down to pull himself out of his slacks, sinking down to take Guy deep in his throat. Another thing that had Guy cursing, had Hal bucking up into his hand.

“Fuck, you really are good at this, Jordan,” Guy wheezed out, thrusting up slightly and nearly making Hal gag on him, “learned it on the job, huh?”

Hal made a noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between anger and arousal, and sucked hard as his revenge. His cheeks hollowed out and he looked up into Guy’s glazed over eyes, pupils blown wide. It made him feel good and disgusted at the same time, that he was the cause of that look on Guy’s face.

The cassette tape clicked off in the air between them, leaving them in the measurable silence that was only punctuated by Guy’s moans and the sound of Hal sucking him. It made it feel more real, had Hal’s skin crawling, had him bucking up harder into his fist. He bobbed up and down faster, spurred on by his hand’s movement and by the praising insults flowing from Guy’s lips as freely as the pre-cum that Hal tasted on the back of his tongue like a curse. The damning evidence of what they were doing, what they had been doing for quite awhile.

Maybe he should’ve taken another hit, maybe it would’ve mellowed him out and dragged him out of his own head. Instead, he was floating in the arousal and the dark parts of his brain, somewhere between high and sober. 

He knew that Guy would hate that he felt that way, like he was being used. Those fingers that were pulling at his hair before ended up stroking between the soft strands in a way that could only be described as fond. His words had become softer as he grew closer, curses and insults giving way to soft praise.

“That’s it, Hal, _fuck_, you’re too good to me. Blowin’ me at work. I gotta pay you back when we’re home, whatever you want, babe.”

It had Hal moaning around him, hips pushing forward into his hand one last time before he shot off, trying desperately to catch every drop in his palm. Guy cursed at the sight and pulling him down by the hand on his hair, cumming down his throat. Hal grimaced at the taste but had no other choice but to swallow every drop. Not like he was going to spit out his load on the polyester underneath Guy’s ass anyway.

At that moment, a drop of his own cum dripped off of his hand and onto the seat underneath him. He cursed at the sight, eyes blown wide, and Guy huffed out a breathy laugh. He reached for Hal’s hand, bringing it over the center console and up to his mouth, licking off the spurts of cum in a way that had Hal’s spent cock twitching between his thighs in interest. He didn’t stop until Hal’s hand was completely clean, pulling his fingers into his mouth and releasing them with a dirty little pop.

“Relax. I’ve got blackmail on detail, they won’t ask any questions.”

Hal relaxed a bit at that, snorting softly.

“Is it Simon? Everyone knows he’s in love with that parts girl, Jessica.”  
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know. He’ll clean it up or else I’ll tell her.”  
“Probably would be better off if you did.” Hal said, laughing.

Just like that, any tension melted away, and Guy reached across to grab Hal into a surprisingly chaste kiss. It had his heart racing, had him looking around wildly to see if anyone was hanging around the lot.

“God, Hal, relax.” Guy laughed, resting their foreheads together.  
“Guy,” Hal started, swallowing thickly as the words got caught in his throat,” we should get back inside.”

He had wanted to say something else to Guy, maybe that he was scared or maybe that he wanted more. Maybe that there was a part of him that might be able to love him some day, as ridiculous as it sounded. Instead, he broke the spell they had on each other, checking his watch.

Hal was right in some way, their lunch break was over and they would get in trouble for not clocking back in. But he knew that he was taking the coward’s way out from the thing they had between them, and he hated himself for it. He hated himself for engaging in it in the first place, for not saying that he was straight and not kissing Guy in the first place, not leading to their strange roommates/lovers relationship.

But Guy huffed out a soft little laugh, something sadder than his usual one, and turned the engine back on to drive the car into the service bay so they could both get back to work.


End file.
